


The Dots of the Leopard

by TariTheNurse



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Comfort, Dora Milaje - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, King Killmonger, Lemon, NSFW, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-22 23:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariTheNurse/pseuds/TariTheNurse
Summary: Long live the new king ('cause he makes you feel good).





	The Dots of the Leopard

You and your sisters in arms are perfectly capable of recognizing the change in ruler for what it is: a coup. It’s perfectly executed. No one can deny the man his claim to the throne because he is both of Wakandan descent and now he’s won the Challenge.

There’s one thing you seem to be the only one to notice, though: N’Jadaka, known to the outside world as Erik Killmonger, is hurting.

Not a physical pain from the many scars covering his torso you’ve seen from a distance. This ache is old and deep and is the reason he has put up walls around his heart. It’s the reason he is so damned locked on ruling your homeland with a vicious show of power both internally and abroad. All the hardships he’s survived are about to be set right.

The law dictates that you must serve the king. Your logic and honour wants to rebel and stay faithful to T’Challa and his family who now has fled to the north. Your heart? Your damn heart is the reason you are walking down the corridor to the new king’s quarters to take your shift a bit earlier than you’re supposed to.

…

Not even an hour into your shift but past midnight, you hear a strangled shout from the N’Jadaka’s room. Both protocol and training propel you through the doors with your spear held ready. Though the hallway had been dark with the exception of a softly glowing strip, you still have to let your gaze sweep over every moonlight bathed surface an extra time. _No one._ That’s not entirely true, of course. Your king’s still there in his huge bed, sitting right up with a serrated knife in his hand and gaze focused on something in front of him that you can’t see.

“Your highness?” you venture haltingly, closing the door behind you to prevent curious eyes from seeing too much while you yourself drink in the view of the barely covered man – only a corner of the silken sheet covers the most private part of him.

N’Jadaka’s head snaps around so fast it ought to give him a whiplash, hard eyes rooting you in place. Then he stands. Naked and glorious with the dotted pattern of scars reaching beyond his torso. _I should look away._ Of course, you don’t. As the fool you are, you only stand there gaping at the form before you.

“Why are you here?” The question isn’t unkind, rather…insecure? It’s hard to tell now that his face is in shadows.

It’s necessary to swallow a lump before you can talk. “I heard…thought I heard a shout. My king.”

“So you thought I was in danger? That I could not defend myself?”

“It is my duty to –“

“Forget your duty!” He moves faster in that second than you had expected and now he’s in your face. “What did _you_ think?”

His breath is hot on your face, his muscular chest brushing against yours – scars against fabric. If this had been a battle, then you’d have been dead (or at least at a disadvantage) now because your spear is too big and clumsy compared to the blade he’s holding by his hip, ready to thrust. Automatically, you retreat a few steps and of course he follows up knowing better than to give you an opening.

“You’ve beaten the mightiest warrior I knew of…” His teeth glimmer in the cold light as your words make him smile. “I know you’re capable…I simply intend to be at your side for your every need.”

N’Jadaka looks your slowly up and down before smirking. “Every?”

 _That’s not what I meant!_ But you don’t want to contradict him now that the words have been twisted so sinfully. How can you deny the physical attraction towards this man anyway? Bast knows how your body longs for him whenever you see your king. And maybe…maybe it could do him good too.

“Every.”

In the night, his eyes are reduced to a thin whiteish ring around eternal darkness and still his gaze holds yours captive as he discards the knife with a clatter onto the floor. Mutely, you place the spear against the door. It goes against everything your position as a Dora Milaje entails when you trace the bumps of the scars across his pecs as though you were reading braille – maybe it would be a story with pain and perseverance? N’Jadaka stays still, watching you curiously to see what you will do.

“My king.” You place a careful kiss on his shoulder. “N’Jadaka.” A few trailing along the collarbone. “Let me take care of you.”

He tilts his head willingly for you to caress his throat and jawline with your lips, revelling in the scratch of his beard while you walk him backwards to the bed, and the man calmly lies down in the middle of it as you follow into a straddle. What a sight! Lean frame, broad shoulders, and chiseled muscles splayed in the moonlight just for you to worship.

You’ve got him panting and writhing just with your hands and mouth, quickly finding the perfect alterations between rough handling with love bites and soft, gentle caresses that has him urging for more. Up, he thrusts into the wetness of your mouth, and even with a fist around the base of his cock you can’t help but gag a bit. _King or not…_

“Come back, kitty,” N’Jadaka growls when you release the erection.

“I will…” Voice sweet like syrup, eyes heavy-lidded. “But _I’m_ the one in charge during the blowjob.”

Of course, he has to get all feisty and sit up with the cock trapped between the two of you and a large hand wrapping around your neck. Teeth glint in the dangerous smile that tugs so devilishly at one side more than the other. The king is watching your calm demeanor and enjoys the challenge he finds there.

“What’s yo name, huh?”

“[Y/N], your highness.” It’s impossible to keep the tease out of the last word.

N’Jadaka’s other hand finds your hip, squeezing and tugging into a slight roll. “I’m yo king and Imma fuck yo, a’ight?”

It’s so tempting. So easy to slide a hand between your bodies and cup your cunt through the clothes, pressing deliciously against the mound and clit. Yeah, it’s not even remotely enough, but the king isn’t stupid.

You help him find the fastenings for the uniform, leather harness getting discarded quickly before he can pull the vibranium-inlaid onesie off your shoulders and further. Like most men you’ve laid with, he gets distracted by your breasts, cradling and massaging tenderly with interspersed tweaks of either nipple...and Bast, does he handle them well! You find yourself arching into his touch, rocking on his thighs as your own needs grow.

It’s freedom reclaimed when you finally lie naked before him after a brief repositioning, knees parted to welcome your king to take what is his, and it surprises you how leisurely he explores the new territory. _Strong like a rhino, elegant like a hummingbird._ Oh, you can feel everything he does, but the roughness you had expected is contained for now at least.

N’Jadaka doesn’t enter your with more than his tongue and fingers before he has made you cum. Each wave of bliss brings a victorious smile to his face while he urges you to let him hear you, and just as you can breathe deeply again, he slides the cock in. Smoothly, slowly, dragging out the ecstasy you feel while he swallows every moan with kisses.

The pace rolling through his body into yours is steady, followed through in each stroke of his tongue on your skin and every caress that sets your limbs ablaze all over again. This isn’t sex, that much registers in your brain, but whatever it is instead remains a mystery because his thumb finds your most sensitive part and your core clenches in spasms around him, knees locking around his hips and waist. Perhaps you yell or swear…that’s another thing to add to the list of what you aren’t sure of this moment. You know no one ever has made you cum so earth-shatteringly intense as this.

“That’s it, [Y/N],” he gasps into the crook of your neck, nibbling at the skin, “cum all o’er my cock.”

A strong arm slides under your arching back, pulling you closer as hips snap and tumble you into a darkness of delight that you only returns from when he slips out of your wetness and lets you breathe.

“Fuck me.”

It’s more of a mumble, but he hears and chuckles, “I ain’t done, kitty-queen.”

Turning you onto your belly, N’Jadaka does take time to help you get steady before he thrusts in deep and hard. Gone is the languid roll, replaced by hard thrusts and a firm grip to your hips so he can bury the erection so deep you feel him bottom out. Harder and faster. Words of praise rain from the king’s lips between the ragged gasps for breath and you feel the spring in your pelvis tighten again, getting ready to release. _Not without him._

“Please!” Your plea is uttered on a sharp mewl.

The pace stutters just as you can’t hold back any longer. Holding up your own and N’Jadaka’s weight as he slumps onto your back, it’s all you can manage not to pass out from the sensations and lack of energy and it’s a relief when he does straighten up, gently rolling you to lying down.

He may be a king, but he is the one to take care of you: damp cloth which he uses to clean you with, then a glass of water for each of you. Any moment you expect to be shown the door.

“Stay with me tonight, [Y/N]?”

The question is so soft you barely believe your own ears, but there’s no doubt when you look into his moonlit face.

“Yes, my king.”

You roll over into his arms, allowing him to pull you close back to chest so he can bury the nose in the crook of your neck.

“Call me by my name.”


End file.
